


A Moment of Weakness

by burusu



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Swearing, it's not graphic or anything to warrant the warning but may still be triggering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-02
Updated: 2020-12-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 17:48:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 791
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27830263
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burusu/pseuds/burusu
Summary: i wasn't going to post this, due to the nature of the nightmare, but i'm kind of proud of how it turned out so uh. here.Alastor is still haunted by the memory of his father, and Husk helps him through one of the few times the dam breaks.
Relationships: Alastor & Husk (Hazbin Hotel), Alastor/Husk (Hazbin Hotel)
Kudos: 110





	A Moment of Weakness

**Author's Note:**

> ok so i gotta put a tw for implied sexual abuse, just to be on the safe side. it's not graphic, but the emotions are there, so it may hit a little close to home for some.
> 
> note that the father will only be referred to as Him and That Man in alastor's internal monologue, so there's no confusion abt the pronouns

Alastor didn't like to remember Him.

When the man surfaced in his mind, he always made sure to bury him down as deep as he could into the mental void—as deep as his rotted corpse in the earth. If he was considered a monster, then that man was the most vile, disgusting demon that had ever walked the mortal world. And that was saying something.

That man... He'd done things even Alastor himself wouldn't do. Alastor despised him, and all that He did to his poor, dear mother. She didn't deserve any of it. He never believed in God, but a part of him still hoped that she'd ended up somewhere safe from Him.

He'd never speak of what was done to himself. No, no one needed to know of his one true terror. The man haunted his nightmares; he always seemed to come back.

A burst of static. He knew that voice. He couldn't hear him, but he knew. He could even put words to the noise, and did so unconsciously.

_'Th' fuck are you lookin' at, boy?!'_

Stop. He didn't want to remember. 

_'I ASKED YOU A QUESTION GODDAMMIT!_ '

He knew the blow was coming. He felt it before it happened, before he even saw the fist raise. It had happened so many times before.

His body slammed into the floor, but he almost didn't notice it. No, all he could see was [REDACTED]'s face leering at him, and his mother lying unconscious. The familiar fear of what he knew was to come took hold, and he screamed. There was no use fighting, but he couldn't control his body's frantic thrashing. 

He knew what was next. He hated it. HE DIDN'T WANT TO REMEMBER.

The events unfolded in slow motion, agonizing moments going by like they were soaked in molasses. He wanted it to be over _he wanted it to stop PLEASE GOD LET IT STOP—_

He awoke with a start, shooting up in his bed. Clutching at his chest, he felt his dead heart racing. And movement to his left.

His wide-eyed gaze shot over to the silhouette beside him, which had caused the movement. Wings and dark fur and—ah, it was Husk. He immediately looked away, ashamed of the terror that was surely all over his face. Husker didn't need to know.

It would only burden his mind to know the strongest person he knew was once the weakest of them all. 

"...Al?" Husk said, and it was then that Alastor noticed his own hands were trembling. In a feeble attempt to hide it, he clenched them into fists, surely drawing blood. "...Alastor. What happened?"

A fake smile—had he been frowning? Oh dear—and he turned to look at his beloved.

"Nothing, Husker. Go back to sleep." 

"It's obviously not nothing. You woke up screaming." The feline's voice was laced with concern, and oh, how Alastor hated it. He didn't need concern, or pity. He was strong now, wasn't he?

And... wait, he screamed? ...Shit. 

"It doesn't concern you. _Go back to sleep_ ," he snapped, making Husk's ears flatten.

"Don't give me that bullshit! Something's wrong and I'm trying to help you. Just—" The cat sighed, and opened his arms, flicking an ear in feigned annoyance. "Here. If it'll make you feel better, you can pet me. Hug me, use me as a snot rag, whatever helps."

Alastor tried to laugh. It came out as a sob.

Soon he buried his face in his dearest's shoulder, body shaking as he tried to keep his bawling as quiet as could be. It was humiliating to be reduced to this, but he couldn't control it. Not while He still lingered on his skin.

Yet Husk held him, consoled him, assured him that he was safe. Kept any contact gentle and easy to break free of. It was like he somehow knew what Alastor needed, even though there was no logical reason why he would. 

Alastor would never talk about it, no. He'd rather experience his own painful demise for the rest of eternity than tell anyone, even Husk. But somehow he felt relieved, as if he _had_ told him. So eventually, once the fear subsided, he was able to feel calm. Almost safe.

Not quite, but as close to it as he would ever get.

"Do you wanna go back to sleep, or just say fuck it and have some coffee?" Husk's voice was gentler, much gentler than...

No. He wasn't going to think about Him. He nodded, and shakily got up. Husk got the message, and followed suit, leading him into the kitchen in the dark.

Though he could see perfectly fine, Alastor still flicked the lights on. He didn't need any more darkness.


End file.
